


wear it like an armor

by mikochan_noda



Series: Sasusaku-Headcanons [2012-2014] [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, Old Fic, Sasusaku had a son, canon-divergence, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikochan_noda/pseuds/mikochan_noda
Summary: Their first child is born a bastard due to mostly dumb reasons. The little boy wasn’t the result of a drunken one night stand, there was no trouble finding Sasuke and telling him about the pregnancy, and almost everyone was supportive of them starting a family together. No. Naruto’s voice rings “Bastard! Bastard!” every time Sasuke looks at his son because—requested bysun-summoning
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Series: Sasusaku-Headcanons [2012-2014] [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765711
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	wear it like an armor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sun-summoning](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sun-summoning).



**(8)** 隅 [ _sumi_ , corner]

It took time, but he came back.

 _(I make no promises_.  
he wrote  
in his first & last  
missive  
of his long mission  
 _so, you can stop waiting_.)

Uchiha Sasuke stood before its gates, doors open wide in a welcoming embrace.

The winter solstice was approaching, as he felt it every freezing morning, as well as the increase of tourists in each town festival he went into. But it was different in Leaf, as it seemed that the oncoming celebration was more grandiose than the village festivals he had been during his travels.

Crimson lanterns swayed from its twines, refracting sunlight in different angles. Bunches of stalls were set-up on the sidewalks, with a crowd of hagglers and vendors congesting the narrow path. A multitude of noises – from quick deals and great barters – were the droning buzz in the streets. And between the spaces of the crowd were the children, running without any care, brooms on their hands, dirt smeared on their noses and chocolates staining their teeth.

Konoha is a racket of conversations and colors, uncaring of the sacrifices it paid to maintain its current peace.

With practiced ease, he leaped on top of an empty post, taking another long look at the panoramic maze of shelters and people, against the clear blue backdrop.

It is the traditional house cleaning, the 13th day of the twelfth month, before the start of the New Year is the time to clear the past. This holiday demands the Fire citizens to sweep each space – from the most obvious ceiling cobwebs, to the hidden dust speckles that inhabited each window crack. It is a symbolic act of clearing their slate, starting with cleaning the stains in their own house.

(to Sasuke, _susuharai_ was clearing old bone-ashes from the altars, wiping out the crumbling incense from its place. And at _hatsuhinode_ , the whole clan would trek the _naka_ shrine, then they would sit with their ankles and knees tucked on its wide porch.

they would wait with their palms upturned, a single coal – made from the collected dust during soot-sweeping, compacted into hard ash – on their hands.

they would always greet the first sunrise by waking the warm cinder with their breaths, coaxing it to live, a tame flamelight on their hands. and it is how the Uchiha are reborn for the promising dawn.)

He walks down the road, leading him to a familiar direction, still at odds with how strange the sights were. Memories told him that the walls and houses were not the same, the pavement felt different beneath his feet. People attempted to revive its former glory, but Sasuke knew the difference, in every acute detail. This was a mere replica of a once glorious district.

After the passing the shallow lake, at the swell of his path, he nears his childhood home, copies of an old, majestic relic.

He expected an empty house.

Instead, a wall – peppered with red-white fans and stark black slurs – greeted him.

The insults _(demon)_ written in _(die)_ jagged ( _burn_ ).lines ( _monster_ )

If this was, a decade ago, when madness and anger had ignited his life, he would have razed the whole village. Surprisingly, the usual swell of anger was only a dull throb.

Sasuke would have ignored these insults, if it weren’t in favor of taking in the sight of an eight-year-old boy scrubbing off the stubborn smears at the nooks of the wall.  
  
There were cans of enamel paint (bright red/cream white) at his feet. His small forearms, wrapped with bandages, precisely followed a steady stroke. Up and down, the brush cleared each line and curve with a stroke, as precise as someone who knows to slice a perfect incision well.

It is clear that he can perform basic chakra exercises with ease. The school-standard holster tied around his left thigh, made it possible that the boy was an academy student.

The hand paused, brush hovering over the mid-curve of a red fan.

His blue nin-sandals shifted. The boy turned to face him. The right hand slid to his short pocket, while his left one was hanging loosely, near the side of his weapon’s pouch flap.

A pair of intelligent eyes sharply glared at him.

( _you bastard!_ )

Small dark irises glinted in recognition.

He felt unnerved that the boy didn’t ask any questions, or seemed confused.

“Uchiha-san.”

The voice was even, nearly polite, if it weren’t for the way the child tensed.

“Sumi-kun!”

The boy cringed.

“Kaasan.”

The small voice spoke the word, all petulant – frowning mouth, furrowed brows. Looking at this child – it was like looking at a young mirror of himself.

(the wonder [fear] filled him, cut his breathing short for a second.)

“Sumi-kun! Is that –” The shoji frame snapped open, and a few moments later, a woman – clad in white, pink & red – bearing old cots and mats in her arms, ran out, panting.

All he could see now was Sakura: brilliant green eyes, wide in surprise, brimming with tears.

“Sasuke-kun…?”

Freshly cleaned floor mats fell to the ground, motes dancing around her bare feet.

* * *

**(0) 「手前」** **-** [ _teme,_ a vulgar word for _you_.]

Sakura had the _right_ to be angry.

He left her, again.

But it isn’t fair for her to hold him fully accountable. She knew what their job entailed. She knew what being a _shinobi_ meant – especially for someone like Sasuke – were often chosen as the primary contingents, assigned to far-flung places or sensitive missions.

(a hawk was not meant to be caged.)

And to her dismay, Sasuke took them, even though he still lived with his demons. Sakura didn’t take his decision quietly – she took it vehemently, of what she thought about this in every morning. The protests were spoken not only in her words, but in the way their bodies closely sprawled, their eyes intimately locked, their hands tightly entwined. And Sasuke for once, he agreed to compromise.

For a few months, they tried to keep their correspondence flowing –

( _how are you? what are you doing? I hope you are okay? if time will allow, i can ask a med team to be sent for support there, sasuke-kun._

_i miss you._

_~~I love you~~ _

_come home._

_these heartbreaking missives would crumple on his fingers, desperately holding onto them, hands tracing the splatters at every close, those faint watermarks that were once dark and damp._ )

– but the incorporeal injuries he had inflicted at her throbbed, in every shorter message, every dwindling response.

Then his last letter came, and made everything clear:

Sasuke might never come back.

( _2% chance?_ _It might end in a few more years?_

she shuddered in anger,

 _why_ , _why do you have to take it_.)

The words _you have a son, bastard. how can you do this?_ were barely even formed at the end, when she threw the pen and paper away.

**-EIGHT YEARS LATER-**

The matter – about her pregnancy, and his long absence – was devoid of any long-suffering theatrics. Confrontations and fights ensued, yes, it was fiery enough that everyone at the downslope of their little hill could hear her arguments and feel the earth move beneath their feet.

(But Sasuke merely took the omission of truth aside, let her cathartic rage out, knowing that he had no right to explain himself. He only acknowledges on how much he had hurt her, the way he had reawakened her long dormant fears of him leaving again.

Instead, he admired her strength to move on, to raise their child alone.)

No, the drama came from an entirely different matter, which spanned for a year and a half.

**SETTING _:  
_** in the kitchen

the man stands rigid, heaves an exhausted sigh, even though he hadn’t spoken much

 **sakura :  
** [ _tired, out of breath, eyes dry, but her voice is breaking_ ]

i don’t want you to marry me out of obligation, sasuke-kun  
it isn’t what I – or you – deserve.  
i can handle it on my own, you don’t need to –

 **sasuke :  
** sakura.

[ _a deep, resonant exhale,_ ]

no.

[ _he opens his mouth, makes a soundless choke_ ]

…

[ _moves a step forward_ ]

i just want

[ _he shakes his head, then crumples his hand into a fist to his side_ ]

sakura.

[ _he stares at the floor, trembling, a surrender in the middle of an empty room_ ]

i want to

[ _his mouth opens, the words are said but they cannot be heard_ ]

**sakura:**

[ _stupefied, does not move from her place, a shallow inhale_ ]

Sasuke resigned from active duty at thirty – the first out of the memorable _rookie nine_.

And this all culminated with the _Rokudaime_ ’s blessing, as they drank from the liquor of the red-black cups, and bound themselves together as man and wife.

Well-wishers were supportive of the union. Naysayers shook their heads, predicting that the couple would be a disaster in the making, one they could not help but watch.

Friends and acquaintances breathed a sigh of relief: _Finally_ , they said, laughing in triumph as the newlywed couple walked on underneath the copses of blooming cherry trees.

Their marriage was an expected inevitability.

What came as a surprise to everyone, including the newlyweds, was their son’s decision.

* * *

 **  
(11)** **「野郎」** [ _yarou_ , asshole]

Only one problem remained.

“We can’t influence his choices, Sasuke-kun.”

 _Haruno_ Sumi, youngest academy graduate after the war, already accomplished a couple of B-class missions and currently training for his _chuunin_ qualifications. He had barely seen his son ever since he married _Uchiha-Haruno_ Sakura.

"He’s already an emancipated minor.” Sakura sighed, her pen finally circling the score over the last exam, nudging her glasses with a finger and setting the finished papers aside. Sasuke was busy slicing the tomatoes in quarters, the thud of his blade was more forceful than the previous one in frustration. “He’s old enough to decide for himself.“

A cry startled them, enough that they paused in their actions, before she reached at the swaddled infant at her chest. Her hands were again full of their two month-old daughter, dropping everything in a second to lift the babe to her chest.

His wife, who hated being unproductive even with her maternal leave, thought to continue more of her less harrowing work. Like the ocular deterioration research she dabbled during her spare time, which was scattered at the edges of the dinner table – which she left for a quick breather, finishing the third stack of the correcting the field-med licensure exams.

Sasuke already finished peeling off the potatoes when his little girl was finally satisfied to sleep again after a small burp from her quick feeding. A few moments before Sakura asked with an odd lilt to her voice.

”Besides, do you think _Haruno_ is such a bad name?”

Something cold ran through his veins with her tone.

He knew that he almost _stomped_ on thin ice.

“No.” He said rather quickly, voice slightly uneven. “It’s not that.”

In truth, Sasuke was more relieved than he let on.

“Then why?”

“It’s…” His hand stilled on the board, eyes tracing the cracks on the front cupboard, seeing nothing but his thoughts. ”I just want to know if…”

Knowing that any hesitance in Sasuke’s part of the conversation was serious, Sakura now gave her full attention to him.

Scooping the contents and the seeds out of the fruit, he let the silence build as Sakura looked at him expectantly. He opened his mouth, closed it, then his eyes held hers as he spoke,

“I just want to ask if-“

“ _Tadaima_.” The soft greeting startled them, followed by the snap of a door. Both tried to ignore the unexplainable hush in the air, like the accustomed quiet that he had grown up in his old home whenever his brother came home.

“ _Okaeri_.” Sakura broke it with a soft smile, as the young boy made his presence known. The child bowed at her rather too formally. “Have you eaten? We’re still making dinner, so you can wait for a moment-”

“It’s okay.” His sister’s tiny hand shook his index finger in greeting.

She reached to pat the top of his head, and took in his messy appearance. Mud smudges and light scratches littered on his skin, yet he seemed perfectly fine, if not for the grave frown on the boy’s face. “Nonsense! You just came from a week-long mission. Surely I can get you some –“

She suddenly cut herself off when a filled plate of _onigiri_ materialized on the table, skillfully avoiding Sakura’s paperwork.

“Sumi,” Sasuke stared at the rigid form of his son. “eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” The boy gave him a formal bow in apology. “I’m sorry.”

Sumi then turned, and left to his room.

Sasuke let go of the knife, gathered the sliced vegetables and tomatoes, and gradually dropped the ingredients on the pot. The crackle of oil and hiss of smoke thickened the uncomfortable calm in the room. He can feel her worried green stare at his back, and almost imagine the way she would comb her short, boy-cut pink hair with her fingers, then the anxious bite of her lip.

In some ways, he can perfectly read her thoughts, knowing that she could not ignore this.

He waited.

“Sasuke-kun?”

「 _are you okay_ 」

“Nothing.” He breathed in her mid-question. “It’s nothing, Sakura.”

It wasn’t the right time to discuss how his son refused to let him become his father.

* * *

**(13.5)** **「碌でなし」** \- [ _rokudenashi_ , good for nothing]

Sumi was the perfect child.

There isn’t any fault to pinpoint on him: he was a brilliant prodigy, a respected comrade, a gentle-mannered lad, firm when leadership thrust upon him.

Sumi’s disposition strongly reminded him of his older brother, if it were not for the bright, big smiles and quirky ribbings that he would seldom show to his friends and siblings, a silent reminder that he was also Sakura’s son.

Sasuke had seen all of these qualities only at the fringes of his son’s life.

And this distance was always placed in between them. He felt the gap with every shift of a closing door, every curt response, every abrupt polite dismissal.

Naturally, one would confront their own child. But Sasuke isn’t going to repeat the same mistakes; he knows what filial pressure, clan devotion and blind loyalty to a village can do. In a way, he cannot force his son to accept him. Nor can he say that his son just needed to ask anything if he wanted.

That is why he pretends.

He pretends that the respect he receives from Sumi was real. A respectful nod when they meet in the Administration Building was given out of affection, not in deference to a superior. Another bluntly answered question that he mistook for eagerness to please, not to make his colleagues wait while he substituted the _Hokage_ for assigning missions.  
  
This short-lived attention was what he kept to his chest, but the harsh truth will remind him soon enough, once he returns back at home.

( _will of fire_ , isn’t _this_ how a father was supposed to do? to worry?)

Can you blame him, for the sudden surge of _anger_ when his son didn’t tell them?

In his shaking hand was a mission report, written curt and impersonal tone. It spoke of how the freshly-minted _chuunin_ took the matter with his own hands when their squad leader, a skilled _jounin_ , was killed and he quickly replaced as the lead in the _genin_ team, escalating the simple C mission to _S_ rank.

(if he could help it, he would forbid any child of his to take any missions at all, as long as he breathed. this accursed village has taken enough of its share of sons and daughters, of his brother, of his family.

letting Sakura go through those dangerous missions is a different matter – he would argue, she’s older, she’s proven herself, she can handle it knowing the consequences of her actions, but all he could hear blaring on his ears was _hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite._ because his son wouldn’t make the same mistakes that he did at his age –)

The text continues on, written with sharp lines and careful slopes, in his son’s handwriting, on how he almost endangered the team as he wanted to take the body of their superior home, but in the last minute, incinerated the body and carried his ashes for the family.  
  
But he didn’t mention that he was poisoned, whereas another team member had conveniently told at his report, following the child’s quick instructions to the young _genin_.  
  
And of course, this was the real cause of his delayed ETA. His mother had been worried sick, and when he returned, he was already taking on the sweep the grounds again, while explaining that they had to reroute their return home to avoid the trackers, not like the follow-up memo from the infirmary about his son’s habit in skipping the compulsory medical inspection after missions, when he used the excuse to the medics that he’ll have his mother to check on him.

(no, it wasn’t the dangers of living as a soldier that made him want his son to stop.

it was this same kindness that killed his –

…it’s unfair, for a father, to compare his son to a dead ghost.)

Right now, he stands before his son, wearing the face of a superior who had called upon a subordinate to explain his submitted more clearly.  
  
If he was more professional, he would’ve ignored this report, and let the matter drop. Let the Hokage deal with this matter. Let the others deal with this, because he did not want to lose his temper and blame the laxity of hospitals, clients omitting important mission details, the possibility that his son would die without even telling them –

( _you have to sacrifice one, to protect another_ he can almost taste the blood on his lips, the sharp blade literally beside the curve of his quickly beating heart. a man who thought of the greater good, but in return, sacrificing many)  
  
His son stared at him with cool eyes, defiant and prepared. In his hands, he carried a form.

(and by gods, he could not imagine how one can do this. how do you tell your son that what he did was reckless, was logical, was admirable – not if the cost would be –

 _…be it a close friend, brother, or even my own child._ )

Because the _Hokage_ wasn’t available, he signs the form for _toukebetsu jounin_ application, his hand trembling as he presses red stamp on the paper.

* * *

**(14)** **「卑劣漢」** **\- [** _hiretsukan_ , a despicable person **]**

In a few years, the name _Uchiha_ did not induce instinctive recoils or quick silences in conversations.  
  
Still, even if the nations have already cleared his clan’s actions by indoctrinating them in the annals of history and the sworn words of those who participated in the _shinobi_ alliance, _Uchiha_ was still a taboo for most of those who have only heard of the tales through word of mouth, or have not seen his participation in the last moments of the war.

This is why he prepared himself when he returned in commission for a short while to be the standing Captain in a sensitive information-gathering mission. With their previous leader still in rehabilitation from an injury, he took the two groups – one were under his command, the other was the returning party – and disregarded the cautious silences he exchanged with the new faces in the ANBU team he met up with.  
  
Night had settled on the borderlines of the Fire country and they already prepared the base camp under the towering oaks, gathering together the fishes from a nearby stream and settled for a quick supper. Yet most of the three new members of the team didn’t dare approach him, even to ask for any updates on mission details or shift changes.  
  
“Commander.”  
  
Sasuke snapped out of his musings, isolated from the team, his back against the rough bark, as he feigned that he didn’t mind that his son was part of this contingent, that he didn’t let that dead-last assign his son to a god-forsaken suicide mission, in finding out if there were some rogue nins who would want to start another war for the sake of gathering the remnants of a long dead goddess that they had killed decades ago.  
  
He would rather ask Sakura to accompany them, but he knew that was asking for too much.

“Yes?”  
  
Sumi is wearing a white bone-mask without any markings, as he’s not an official member of the ANBU, yet he’s recognized in all nations as a talented medic, and now in demand of more intensive missions.  
  
“I’ve already scouted the area, and laid a few illusion traps.”  
  
He almost let out a bark of laughter at how serious Sumi’s tone is. His son is terribly efficient, and couldn’t keep still if he didn’t do anything worthwhile. He is not one to be left idle, and naturally, he would do such things without any prompting from his superiors at all.  
  
“I’ll take the first shift.” And like he predicted, Sumi indicated to the other three members who were already preparing their positions under the silent branches.  
  
Sasuke noted the fists that tightened at Sumi’s sides, and wondered if the child thought that he was underestimating him. But even if he was a valuable member of the mission, he was not an ANBU and he didn’t dare risk him to fend off to fight without recuperating from the quick, punishing pace he had set earlier.

“Take a two-hour rest.“ Sasuke conceded, even if he had no plans to include him in the sleeping turntables. “That’s final.”  
  
The child gave a stiff bow, and went to the other side of the encampment.

===

“…You mean our _medic_? That kid?”  
  
“Yeah,” the voice was a rough drawl, “he’s an Uchiha, no matter how the kid tried to hide it. I can see that recognizable cowlick.”

“He’ll probably kill us in our sleep. Remember the stories, Hiroshi?”

“Man, one of them slaughtered his entire family in their sleep. And the other one was the one who had murdered the previous council elders.”

A thick, bloody rage silently pounded on his head. Sasuke knew that all of this was already past him. Time had already managed to forgive all the slights that were given to him. But he kept himself in check, straining his limbs not to move a muscle, not to decapitate these fools, because he would do so, if it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to prove that his family was not a clan of hot-headed fools who would seek out blood in mere provocation.

“And if it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t even be here in this damned useless mission.”

“Of course. Good thing we’re out of earshot; he wouldn’t be able to hear us.”

“Yeah, that kid is his son, right?”  
  
“You mean, that _demon_?”

“I heard that the Last Uchiha forced poor Sakura-san to marry him.”  
  
“Maybe he forced her?”  
  
“Or threatened to kill her if she refused?

“Besides, can you just imagine living in that ghost town? Who wouldn’t go insane?”

“The kid might have done the right thing to take on his mother’s name, but he’s still a bastard.”

“Yeah, he’s still a son of a _murderer._ ”

(breath and beat stilled: is this what he thinks of his heritage? shame, disgust, _hatred_?  
  
but an _Uchiha_ was more than that. he was more than that.  
  
his family, his wife, his children were more than _that_.)  
  
“Imagine growing up with a blood-thirsty, abusive, good-for-nothing – ”

“Nezumi-san, Neko-san, Tori-san.”

The three jumped at the small shadow that materialized in front of them. His face bare of the mask, yet with the stark-white face, even from a distance, Sasuke could see the fury in his son’s gaze.

“I would appreciate if you stop talking _shit_ ,” Sasuke had never heard his son curse, and he had never heard of him being disrespectful to his seniors. “while I’m awake.”  
  
“And yeah, brat? What? You’d go tattle-tale to your _dad_?”  
  
The child might have disobeyed his direct orders, but in his surprise, this stopped Sasuke from casting a painful _genjutsu_ when he recognized the gentle spike of chakra in one’s fist.  
  
No matter how he looked so much like him, he knew that his temper resembled his mother more.   
  
And yet…  
  
“Nezumi-san,” The soft voice was calm, deadly and almost eerie. “I believe that as your current medic, it’s for my duty to ensure that you return back to Konoha _alive_. “

Judging from their rigid stances, and the way their hands were almost reaching for their blades, they were definitely eager for a fight.

“Are you threathen–”

“Neko-san, I believe you need to rest?”

There was a sudden breeze, rustling the trampled grasses on their feet, before a man slumped unconscious on the floor. The child in front of them was out of their sight for a second, before reappearing at their backs within a second.

Both of the transgressors slightly trembled, judging how their knees almost buckled when the boy cocked his head to the side, and slid his left hand on his pocket, to hide the still glowing fist.

His son – who had always been level-headed in different situations – was picking a battle that would earn him a court-martial for insubordination.  
  
And Sumi – the ever obedient boy, the perfect _shinobi_ – was ecstatic in breaking the rules.

Sasuke knew that he must stop this, but –  
  
“You insulted me for my whole life, Noshita-san.”

– he couldn’t even move from his perch.

“But don’t you ever _dare_ – ”

“Haruno-kun, I expected better behavior from you.”

The taut atmosphere diffused when his second-in-command appeared in between parties, his hand raised with an ink-stained brush and a blank scroll on his hands.

“Captain!” The _cowards_ exclaimed in relief, as they pointed their sheathed blades to their medic who still held his ready stance. “He dared to – ”

“Return to your tents, Nezumi, Tori.” And no matter how conversational his command was, there was steel in his command that dared them to disobey. “I will deal with his misbehavior, as Haruno-kun is an important member of our team, to ensure our survival.”

The men retreated with mutinous glares at the defiant child over the gaps of their mask, while ivory-tiger mask turned to the boy who calmly stared at the other direction.  
  
“Haruno-kun,” Sai began. “it’s not like you to lose your temper.”

The boy didn’t speak.

“An attack to a high-ranking nin is no light matter.” He shook his head, as if trying to extract more information. “I will file a report, and you’ll explain your actions to our commander when we return back to the village.”  
  
“ _No_ – _!_ ”

“Hm?”  
  
If he wasn’t mistaken, Sai was almost _laughing._

“I-I’ll explain my actions to the Hokage. Suspend me for a few weeks, if you want. Just-just don’t – ”

Sai waited, as he slid his brush back to his front pockets, not rushing the boy, who straightened his spine, and trying to open his mouth and close it, till he blurted out with an embarrassed  
  
“Don’t tell _Tousan_.”  
  
(Twenty-eight feet above from ground, with sixty degrees to the right of a two meter radius, Sasuke almost lost his footing.)  
  
“Why not?” Sai went on, unaffected, rolling up the weaponized scroll quickly.

And the way his child looks so young, with that disgruntled expression, at how he mimicked his stubborn stance –

“He’ll probably get the wrong idea.”  
  
The boy finally relaxed enough to let his arms hang from his sides.  
  
Sai gave a wry chuckle. “But I still have to explain to a superior on why,” He picked up the snoring lump with an easy lift. “you made an ANBU trainee sleep.”  
  
“He’s stupid enough to fall into a trap?”  
  
“That will not work, Haruno-kun.”  
  
“He is, though, _Jii-san_.”  
  
“I think you caused enough trouble to last for a month.”

In reply, Sai reached out to ruffle his hair.  
  
“Not _that!”  
  
_ Sumi ducked, and went out of his range with a quick flash step.   
  
“We’ll stop by the sweets shop,” This earned him a bright smile from his son, which stung Sasuke in such an acute way that the bark beneath his hand almost crackled. “if you return to sleep, _now_.”  
  
“Fine, I’m going to sleep. Don’t tell – ”  
  
“I won’t.”

When Sumi leaped out to run towards his side of the camp, the white-mask of a Snake in turn came in a rustle of leaves beside the Tiger.   
  
“Yes?” There was an odd lilt in his voice as they both looked at the shadowed gaps between the trees. “Sir?”  
  
Sasuke nodded, as if giving permission to give the three new recruits a dismissal from their respective squads after ‘failing’ a hellish training week before their formal induction to the Force, to the direction of the two trainees who tucked their tails earlier.  
  
“Don’t tell.”

* * *

 **(15) 墨** [ _sumi_ , ink] **  
**

Sumi was silently cleaning the last of his blades when a silhouette fell on his _shouji_ screen.

He promptly opened the door. A brief bow of his head, after a polite _yes, chichue?_ werespoken, and dark eyes met the much darker pair of eyes calmly.

“Ichisumi,” Uchiha-san often called him with the _first_ attached to his name in private, unlike his mother who prefers still calls her son with endearments. “Can I come in?”

It was apparent that whatever brought Uchiha-san to his room was important, and made him nervous, with the stalling signs and furtive glances around his room, as if afraid of intruding his own personal space. But it only lasted for seconds, as Uchiha-san’s gaze returned back to him, blank and stern.

“Here.”

In his hand was a scroll. It was an important document, judging from the red and gold gilding that lined its edges, and the waxed seal that belied the gravity of its contents. He left it on his neat desk, on the empty center.  
  
 _Koseki_. A scroll used for family registrations.  
  
Like Births. Deaths. Adoptions.  
  
Recognizing sons out of wedlock as legal heirs.  
  
“Use it as you will.”

Slowly, his hand retreated from the top of the rolled document, to hide in between the sleeves of his dark _haori_. Uchiha-san stood almost at the wooden margins of his room, observing him as he sat on his chair, composed.  
  


===

His son is of legal age, still living his fifteen years of life at its fullest – which is a blessed privilege that most of his colleagues would never receive with their chosen profession.

Sasuke’s life was filled with misunderstandings and unsaids :.  
  
His father was proud of him.  
His mother was telling the truth.  
His brother loved him.  
  
He would never ever doubt these truths again, but it was already too late when he learned this.  
  
If anything, he wouldn’t let his son doubt the same truths that he holds firmly now.  
  
He just want his son to know.

* * *

 **(10)** **済** [ _sumi_ , settled]

The first time Sumi saw Uchiha-san, he wanted to hurt _him_.

He want to exact the same amount suffering on him.

The stranger didn’t hear the jeerings, or the gazes of fear in his direction. Or how they called him a good-for-nothing. No matter what the adults told the others, he was still going to be the subject of cruel slanders and pranks. Or how his mother would sadly sit by the windowsill beside his bed, brushing his forehead while pretended to sleep, singing lullabies, trying not to cry.

(he wasn’t there.)

All he knew of the man were from two different sides; it’s either the ones that had glorified him – his father is a hero, a legend, a genius, or the ones that had scorned him – a warmonger, a traitor, a monster.  
  
To him, his father was _nothing_.

(he wasn’t there.)  
  
This is why he must speak now, while her mother arranged the rouge and powder on her desk, with the intricate brocade of his grandmother’s _uchikake_ laid on her bed, without her anyone to hear him object.  
  
“I hate him, Kaasan.”  
  
Sumi expected his mother to be horrified, to tell him that it’s not right to be angry to a man that she’ll marry in a few hours. No matter what he did, Uchiha Sasuke would officially become his father and he absolutely loathed _that_.

Instead, he receives a gentle ruffle on his hair, as his mother bent her knees to meet his angry gaze.

“Okay.”  
  
“ _Kaachan_ , I _mean_ it. I mean, aren’t you angry? He _left_ us…”

“Sumi, It’s not bad to be angry. Even if he’s your father.” Her embrace was warm yet firm, and her chin gently settles on the soft hairs of the top of his head. “I’m still angry at him, you know? _Really_ angry.”  
  
“But why are you marrying _him_? ”  
  
She lets the comfortable quiet settle in between them, the one that she loved the most when she reminded herself that she’s no longer alone in waiting before breaking it with a sigh.  
  
“I told you before, right? He didn’t mean to leave us. He’s probably sorry about it.”  
  
“How do you know? Are you sure, _Kaasan_?”  
  
Her lips tremble as if afraid of saying something, like she was in the verge of telling a safer answer or the more painful truth. As those inquisitive, all-knowing eyes waited, she had made up her mind by the time her fingers cradle his cheek before whispering, “I don’t, Ichisumi.”  
  
He recognizes the tears that were almost spilling from her lashes, the same ones when he knew that she _hurt_ so much and he was helpless to do anything.

“You _don’t_?” The fierce tone from that childish squeak, to his confusion, made his mother giggle on top of his head, before snuggling at his shoulder.

“It’s a risk, Sumi-kun, to give someone a chance.” And his mother’s face was still clear of red tint and white powder, her cheeks now marked with tear stains yet she looked as the prettiest woman he had ever seen. “But I love your Tousan, that’s why. But I’m not saying that you have to love him back, or even forgive him for what he did to us. And that’s alright.”  
  
“Then,” His brows knitted in concentration, before making a decision. “I won’t.”  
  
“Thank you.” His mother planted a soft kiss on his brow. “All I want is for you to be honest.”

===  
  


It’s difficult to be angry with someone, when you learn the truth behind the stories. When they once whisper that _you remind me of him_ , he would seethe at the mere comparison. He was not going to become like him.  
  
Yet here he is, taking the dark cup of rice wine from pale fingers, inclining a respectful nod to you in acknowledgement, and you suddenly realizes that they had something in common - when his mother smiled with a rare, happy laugh with a simple soft compliment about her hair.  
  
(the first thing he learns about his father: he’s a kind man.)

* * *

 **(16)** **「私生児」** **-** **しせいじ** **(shiseiji) illegitimate child**

“I heard that in the next match, it’s going to be Sakura-san’s son.”  
  
“They could have prepared for the ground to be extra thicker? He’ll surely demolish the stage again.”  
  
“I remember that perfect undetectable paralyzing poison that he aimed in the – “  
  
In every qualification match held for the rank examinations, one of the favored candidates would be Sumi, as he gained his reputation in the nations as a excellent combat medic.  
  
Sasuke had watched them once, alone, at the top boxes, when his son has won his place as a _chuunin_ , watching the name _Haruno Ichisumi_ 「春野 一隅」flash in the screens.  
  
It’s unusual for Sakura to take a day-off when the Jounin festivities was coming near, as there are random casualties that occur from escalating country rivalries. But when he realized that both of her and Yamanaka are carrying front seat tickets in the stadium, he knew that he was going to see his son fight again.  
  
The first three matches were over, and the dust finally settled down for the next one.  
  
He could see his son wearing the customary flack jacket over his dark uniform, yet there was something odd on his current outfit he couldn’t place.  
  
“Gloves.” Sasuke states. “He’s not wearing something for his fist.”

“What is that _brat_ thinking?” The kid’s aunt rounded on Sakura’s other side. “His opponent, a puppeteer, is an long-distance expert! If he doesn’t make any boulders to hide in or make some obstructions – _eh_ , Sakura? You’re grinning, but this is a time for panic, not that I don’t believe in Sumi or anything but – ”  
  
“You,” His wife pointed at her best friend. “are going to treat my son for his victory.”  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
Instead of deeming Yamanaka with a reply, Sakura grabbed Sasuke’s hand and gave it with a firm squeeze.  
  
“Watch.”

===  
  


The participants stood at the opposing sides of the referee, both ready to start by the time that the hand sweeps in between them.  
  
A second later, the battle starts.  
  
Everyone expected for the first offensive move to come from the puppeteer, and it’ll be dodged just as quickly, before closing in for a one-shot hit, powerful enough to destroy the surroundings and giving the young man an ample opportunity to shatter the Suna-nin’s defense.  
  
What the audience of the _Jounin_ qualifications saw was this:  
  
\- Sumi disappears in one step, before a barrage of knives and needles rained upon the surprised Suna nin.  
  
\- In retaliation, the opponent tries to counter the sudden attack with a well-timed substitution, by which his escape was narrowed by a sudden windmill shuriken that blocked his path.

\- He then formed a fist to concentrate in pulling his chakra strings in order to manipulate the three puppet weapons beside him.  
  
\- Instead, he could not move his joints – from the crook of his elbows to the tips of fingers – as they were now all wrapped with tight wires.  
  
\- The word _Katon_ echoed like thunder all throughout the stadium, its huge searing flames blazing bright in midday.

\- In forty-five seconds flat, Sumi had his enemy cleared of any weapons by turning all of his wooden dolls into ash.  
  
Sumi dropped to his feet beside the referee, sullenly looking at Inuzuka-sensei who still gaped at the participant who had barely moved ten meters from his starting point, stunned.  
  
“And, the winner…The winner is…”  
  
“Not yet, _bastard_!”  
  
(for sumi, that insult was a stigma in all his life. a mere _bastard_.  
  
someone who’ll become nothing.)  
  
“Yeah,” He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “I am.”  
  
In one beat, the world becomes sharp, clear and _red_.  
  


===  
  


“The winner is –”  
  
His son is standing with his back to him, spine ramrod straight.  
.  
It’s odd that Sasuke feels like a child again waiting before the new dawn, cupping a piece of sleeping warm coal, eager to see the first flame to thrum in his hands.  
  
He flares his eyes.  
  
Sasuke waits for the call of his son’s name.  
  


* * *

In the fourth match of the 47th Qualifying Jounin Examination Finals for the Golden Uzumaki Era, they passed one of the youngest jounin in the Five Nation.  
  
The Qualification Seal was signed to be given to :  
  
「 うちは 一炭 」  
“Uchiha Ichisumi”  
  
一 **炭**  
[ _ichisumi_ , first coal]

**Author's Note:**

> posted last June 16, 2014 at sasusaku-headcanons [[link](https://sasusaku-headcanons.tumblr.com/post/88965114676/)]


End file.
